Old Times, Happy Times
by DragonsDeadAndDancing
Summary: Two-shot. Interactions of Father - Daughter and Mother - Daughter in the most dysfunctional family ever, when everything was still alright.
1. Papa

He had not known that children could scream that loud until he was woken by his daughter. His wife moved next to him, still half asleep. "I'll go to her", he murmured. She closed her eyes again and nodded. He gently kissed her on the forehead, then climbed out of the bed. Although the stone floor was cold as ice, he stayed barefoot as he hurried to his daughter's room. He took a torch from the wall, then opened the door.

"Daddy!" She was sitting upright in her bed, still panting.

"What is it?" He sat down next to her and gently stroked her tangled pitch-black hair.

"I dreamed that…you were afraid of something, and a terrible thing came and it helped you and it killed you but you were still alive and then it did something else to Mama and me. I was all cold and then we were together again but something was wrong. And then…" Her voice broke. Tears began to fill her huge blue eyes. He embraced her and made soothing noises while she cried silently in his arms.

"Shhh. It was just a nightmare. Don't be afraid."

Then she tore away from his embrace. Tears ran down her face. Her expression was both scared and angry, angrier than any five-year-old ought to be. "You don't understand, Daddy. I killed you and I was _happy_."

He forced himself to a smile while cursing her maid. Who had told her stories that led to that kind of dreams? "Serana. I would never do anything to harm you or your mother. I love you. I will never leave you."

"You won't do bad things to me?"

"Never."

"You won't leave me alone in the dark?"

"Never."

"You won't let me kill you?"

Harkon hesitated. "It depends on the circumstances…on the situation you are in and the reasons you want to kill me. But I would like to live so no, I won't let you kill me."

Suddenly she seemed concerned. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why should I? Everyone has nightmares and doubts or is angry at parents." He stood up. "Are you alright? Do you think you can sleep again?"

"Yes. Thank you, Daddy." She drew the blanket tightly around her. "I love you."

**Well, this is one of the nicer stories my brain can produce. I don't know where this idea came from. But I like it. There had to be a time, long before they became vampires, when everything was still okay. At least between Harkon and Serana.**

**If you haven't seen Sanguine Molag's tribute to the Volkihar vampires on youtube, do it. The music he chose – In the Dark by The Birthday Massacre – is the perfect Serana song in my humble opinion.**

**I'm working at a second story with Valerica - Serana interaction, but don't expect anything soon.**


	2. Mama

Had it been humans eating, one would have heard the scraping of cutlery on silver plates, pouring wine and – if the observer had exceptionally good ears – chewing and swallowing. But since it were vampires feeding in front of the fireplace, the only sound was the too-loud, laboured breathing of the cattle on the table, which only pronounced the silence filling the private dining room in Castle Volkihar. Something was clearly wrong; an invisible presence seemed to fill the void between Harkon and Valerica, created by the absence of conversation and at the same time preventing it, suffocating the words before they escaped their lips. On the outside they didn't seem hostile but only very calm, like any married couple who didn't really like each other after an ordinary day. But their glances never met and they were careful not to feed at the same time from the drooling woman who was lying on the long table, clad in rags, staring in the void and covered with bite marks.

Suddenly Valerica stood up, shoving her chair back with her legs. The heavy stool made a nasty sound when it scraped over the stone floor. The sound came abrupt; Harkon nearly jumped and the silence shattered, broke like glass hit by an orcish war-hammer. For a moment the woman just stood there, staring blankly down at the arm lying in front of her place. Valerica's hands had grabbed the edge of the table and her long, claw-like fingernails dug deep in the hard, polished wood. Then she turned her gaze to the walls and, without a glance at her husband, she walked over to some displayed weapons. She grabbed a long, razor-sharp ebony dagger and a silver goblet from a small shelf and went back to the table. Valerica didn't hesitate but slit the cattle's wrist.

Although the couple had been feeding on the woman for over an hour, a decent amount of blood was left in her body. It left her now, not as a small fountain but a trickle. When the goblet was filled, the vampire walked out of the room, not bothering about the slowly bleeding out cattle. Harkon stayed at the table, staring at his food but not really seeing it.

Valerica walked fast and without hesitation through a maze of stairs, halls, and corridors, never missing the right turn. She could smell the blood in the goblet cooling. Soon it would become nearly inedible, clogged and tasteless, but maybe this would make it easier. Finally she stood in front of a door high up in the eastern tower. She hesitated a moment before she knocked on the door. "Serana?", she called out softly. Although no response came, she slipped in the room.

Had she not seen the big, dark chamber in this state for nearly a month almost every day, she would have taken a step back or fled altogether. But meanwhile she had become used to the smell. Thick curtains were drawn over the high windows that were set in the eastern wall to block out every ray of sunlight. A broad smear of blood and dirt, dried weeks ago, led to a corner in which a figure was lying. Some heavy wardrobes had been shoved between the windows and the woman on the floor.

"Serana!", called Valerica out again and her daughter began to move slowly in her corner. The older woman walked nearer and finally keeled down on the floor. When she saw Serana's face, something inside her seemed to break, as always. She had been beautiful before her turning, tall and slender, with graceful movements, her perfect face dominated by blue eyes. They were sunken deep in their hollows now, burning like yellow embers. Powerless. Ready to fade at any moment. Her flesh had vanished, leaving only dry skin stretched tightly over bones that stood out too sharp. Under the dirt and blood and whatever else covered her she was sickly pale, even for a vampire. Her pitch-black hair was matted and filthy as well. Valerica didn't know about the state of her body, but it was probably in even worse condition. She had drawn a blanket around her, under which she hid all the mess the older woman could recall from her ritual.

Serana stared at her mother, who wondered for a moment if she recognized her at all. Thus far she had refused to speak or to feed, she didn't even nod or shake her head. Valerica smiled encouragingly. "How do you feel today? Are you hungry?"

"Mama." The voice was hoarse and its sound wrenched Valerica's heart. This wasn't her daughter's voice but a stranger's. At the same time, it gave her hope.

"Serana. What's wrong?" Of course she knew what was wrong. She clearly remembered her initiation, but it hadn't affected her that much.

Suddenly the girl began to sob.

"Oh no, don't cry. Everything will be alright. Try to eat something, become strong again. We are all waiting for you to be better. Please-"

"It _hurts_!"

"Yes, I know. Drink something and it will be better, I promise." If she didn't feed, the wounds would remain on her body forever, until she died of starvation, which could still be months away. "Aren't you hungry? I have food."

"Nooo…", Serana groaned.

"Please, Serana. We are all so worried about you. Harkon…" Maker, she hated bringing her husband into this, but it worked: At the mention of her father's name, her eyes glowed a little bit brighter. The girl stretched out a shaking hand towards her mother, who gave her the goblet. When Serana took it, it wobbled and spilled some of its contents, but Valerica quickly placed her hands on both of its sides, steadying it. "Slowly." She brought the goblet to her daughter's mouth and Serana slowly drank the cold blood, then ripped it out of Valerica's grip and flung it across the room.

Her mother smiled. "I'll get you some more, then you can take a bath and meet your father."

**Credit to this story: It was inspired by the picture "Degrading" of the artist Donoffrio on deviantart (CHECK HIM OUT HIS ARTWORK IS GORGEOUS!)**


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